Case 9743: Confessions of a Henchman
by Shelly Lane
Summary: One of Ratigan's thugs describes his quest for a better life. All characters named in the story but not mentioned in the movie are henchmen. Disney owns everything.
1. A Grave Error

**A Grave Error**

I'd never seen him so angry.

Don't get me wrong. I'd seen displays of Ratigan's fury more times than I care to remember, but this was his worst display of wrath yet. Never before had he felt so much rage, and I was the cause of it.

Long ago I lost count of how many lives I've seen lost to his pompous, pampered pet. After seeing more murders than I care to remember, I shouldn't have been shocked when my turn came, but it still took me by surprise. No one ever expects the bell will ring for them, but everyone offends Ratigan eventually.

No one felt sorry for me. Not one look of pity crossed the faces of even the most sympathetic henchmen. They all felt I deserved what I got.

"You will live," Ratigan had promised, "but it will be in torment! Death is too merciful for you!"

He was determined I would have a fate worse than death, but his vindictive plan failed. The bell that had sealed the fate of so many others sealed mine as well, but not in the way anyone expected. The day I had been dreading for years was one of the best of my life.


	2. Our New Acquaintance

**Our New Acquaintance**

Contrary to popular belief, Ratigan has had more than one secret lair. The one he used during the Flaversham Failure, an incident nearly leading to his arrest after a failed attempt to take over the government, was his thirteenth secret hideout. Being extremely clever, Ratigan frequently changed the location of his lair to minimize the chances of being discovered by the police. The professor, excelling at science and mathematics, had never been superstitious, but he began to wonder whether or not it was a mere coincidence that his thirteenth lair was the one where he watched his greatest scheme fail.

He was on his seventh lair when I made the best and worst mistake of my life.

"And remember," the boss continued, "if I find as much as one minor problem when I return…!" He held up his bell.

We cowered.

"I trust nothing will go wrong."

"Of course it won't, Professor!" Bill assured him.

Ratigan held out a cigarette for us to light. "Very well. I shall see you when I return from Cambridge. Oh, it will be so nice to spend some time relaxing!"

He tipped his hat and left.

The boss had a cunning plan. He would visit Cambridge. Basil's suspicions would be aroused upon hearing the news, and the sleuth would set out for clues indicating his enemy's actions. However, Ratigan would not commit any crimes in Cambridge. While Basil was distracted with the mistaken belief, the professor would sneak back to London. Without the detective's interference, the boss could sabotage the city at leisure.

"I feel as if I am going on holiday!" Ratigan exclaimed. "When I return home, a few of you will visit Cambridge and commit minor offenses, just enough to keep that insufferable pipsqueak from realizing I left the city. Make him think I'm still there. The longer you detain him in Cambridge, the more time I have to enjoy myself here!"

It was quite an elaborate scheme, but knowing the rat…the _boss _rather…we expected nothing less.

For the first two minutes after Ratigan left, everyone was silent. We would be without the professor for at least several days. It took a while for that realization to hit us.

Suddenly, Fidget helped himself to a glass of Ratigan's finest champagne. "The boss isn't here! We can have all we want!"

"Sounds good to me!" Bartholomew exclaimed, pouring himself a drink. "This is much better than the champagne he serves us!"

Feeling bolder by the second, I began smoking one of the professor's cigarettes. "The boss will never notice if I take just one!"

Using that same logic, I slipped a small ruby under my jacket.

"Want to have some real fun?" Bill asked.

"What did you have in mind?" I inquired.

"We'll wear disguises so no one will recognize us, and we'll tell the constable that someone's causing trouble at the Rat Trap. Then we'll all be at a different bar. No one will ever guess we're the ones who sent the police there! Just imagine the chaos it will cause!"

I stood akimbo. "And when the constable realizes he's been tricked?"

"By then, we'll be long gone!" Bill answered.

Bartholomew's speech was already slurred. "Sounds like fun!"

Fidget laughed. "Let's do it!"

Attempting to imitate the professor's voice, I responded, "It promises to be most interesting, but if any of you should make any mistakes, I will ring my bell to summon my overweight, ugly cat."

The others laughed and lightly slapped me in approval.

Our plan would have worked better if we hadn't picked the wrong pub. Everyone there was well dressed. No doubt the majority of them had jobs that paid more money in a week than we would ever see in a month. This was where the social elite came to enjoy a glass of their favorite drink in the presence of colleagues.

The bartender stared at us. "Is this a stick up?"

We stared at each other and noticed that even in disguise, we still looked like ruffians.

"A round or two on the house, and we won't cause any trouble," I replied.

The bartender nodded. "Yes, sir."

I looked down to hide a smile. No one had ever called me "sir" before. I liked it. The polite title made me feel like a respectable member of society, a true gentleman rather than a lowlife.

When we got our drinks, my friends toasted in my honor since I had come up with the idea.

A gentleman approached our table. "Might I sit here?"

"Do whatever you want. Just don't interfere with our free drinks!" Bill answered.

The stranger smiled politely. "My name is Arthur T. Johnston."

Fidget winced. "Name's too complicated. Besides, it doesn't even sound good."

"Perhaps not to you, but it suits me well." He changed the subject. "Tell me about your company. Surely such distinguished gentlemen are in the employ of a prosperous franchise. Your sons attend only the finest schools, no doubt."

"Tell us about yours first!" Bartholomew demanded.

I nodded my approval. "One of the few intelligent things he's ever said while drunk."

"I'm an entrepreneur!" Mr. Johnston answered. "I run my own company." He took a sip of his wine. "My main business is jewelry and gemstones. I find some that nobody wants, and I sell them at a high price. Sometimes I buy them. There's always enough money to please the original owner and myself. After only a few months at this, I became superfluously wealthy, especially with the extra work on the side."

"Such as?" Bill asked.

"This for example." Johnston held up Bill's wallet.

Bill gasped. "How did you get that out of my pocket without…?"

"Years of practice," he replied.


	3. Dangerous Confessions

**Dangerous Confessions**

"Alright!" Bill exclaimed. "Teach us!"

Johnston laughed. "Am I a university professor to instruct others in appropriate techniques of a true form of art?"

"You've got skill!" Fidget complimented. "Maybe we could get you something for your trouble. Is there something you want?"

"Nothing you could offer!" he replied.

"Wait! You like gemstones!" I pulled the ruby out of my jacket. "We have some that would be considered large by humans! Surely that should be enough to spark your interest!"

Johnston inspected the ruby. "You have my attention." He handed the jewel back to me. "And all I would have to do is teach you how to liberate the contents of a pocket without drawing attention to yourself?"

"That's it!" Fidget answered. "What do you say?"

"Well…I don't know. It's a good deal to be sure, but perhaps it's a bit too good. Are you sure your boss would approve?"

"Ratigan's out of town," I responded. "He's in Cambridge."

"Oh, you work for Ratigan?" Johnston laughed. "Why didn't you say so? I had no idea I was in the presence of such expert criminals!"

"Hush!" Bill put his hand over Johnston's mouth. "If there are any concerned citizens eavesdropping, they'll notify the police!"

"Perhaps we could go somewhere else to talk," I suggested.

"I know just the place!" Fidget motioned for us to follow him outside the bar.

"You go ahead," I told the others. "I'll stay behind with Johnston and give him a few tips for proper behavior. We can't have the boss knowing we invited a stranger over to visit without his permission. We have to make sure this guy knows what is expected of him."

They agreed and started walking toward the lair.

After they left, Johnston began, "Save yourself the trouble of explanation. I know the rules. I am not to take anything but what you offer me. I am not to do anything that would indicate my presence. When your boss returns, he should have no idea that I was ever at his secret hideout."

"Mister, that's not what I was going to say," I interrupted.

"It wasn't?"

I placed my hands on his shoulders. "You don't know what you're doing. Get out while you still can. They're impressed. They're going to try to convince you to stay and work for Ratigan. You don't want that. Every one of his thugs is eventually killed. There have been very few who escaped death at the hands of the boss, but that's only because they were arrested. None of his employees have lasted longer than a few years."

"Shall I assume you are unhappy working for him?"

"Johnston, I'm not a criminal. I was a witness to the Tower Bridge Job that you surely read about in the newspaper several months ago. I didn't mean to be. I was just out for an evening stroll when Ratigan caught me. He gave me the choice. I could either be forced into a life of crime or I could watch him feed my family to that wretched cat of his."

"Has Ratigan been forcing you to commit felonies?"

I shook my head. "So far, he's forced me into misdemeanors. I don't want to do anything wrong, but he has his bell and guns and…"

"He's threatened you before, hasn't he?"

"Only every day." I sighed. "I pray every night that he won't force me to hurt anybody or cause permanent damage to anything. The guilt of my misdeeds pains my heart and torments my conscience so much that I've had insomnia every night since I started working for that disreputable rat!" I gasped and put my hand over my mouth, realizing the penalty if the boss ever found out what I had said.

Johnston seemed to read my mind. "I won't tell him."

I cleared my throat. "I don't care if you rob others by stealing things from their pockets. That's none of my business, but I beg you not to join Ratigan's gang. Most of his villains are true criminals, but there are many of us who were forced into his service. Don't make that mistake. Live your life the way you choose. Keep your freedom."

"Would you leave if you could?"

I scoffed. "You mean escape? No one ever escapes!"

"But if you could, would you?"

"In a heartbeat!"

He nodded thoughtfully. "You seem to know a lot about Ratigan's other employees."

"I could list everyone's crimes and prove their guilt!" I answered. "No one takes any notice of me. It's like they think I'm invisible. I have my own secret lair with photos, items left behind at crime scenes, and anything else you can name. I know better than to go to the police with this information, for that would ensure my death."

"Most likely," Johnston agreed. "Your boss would be furious."

"However," I continued, "if Ratigan ever tries to take my life and I know I am bound to be murdered anyway, I will present everything to the police. Call it blackmail or call it having nothing to lose, but when my time comes to be killed, I'm not going down without a fight."

"Since Ratigan forced you into working for him, you wouldn't be considered a criminal," he remarked. "All would be forgiven since you were only trying to preserve your own life, especially if it's as you say and you have committed no felonies. If you escaped now, not only would you avoid the inevitable demise you fear is in your future, but you could also rest assured that you wouldn't be apprehended. Neither Ratigan nor the police would interfere with your life, and you could become a good citizen with a respectable profession. Would you like that?"

"I'd do anything if I could…!" I stopped myself. "Who are you?"

"I already told you who I am."

"Johnston, five minutes ago you were acting like you didn't know the first thing about us, and now you're trying to convince me to find a way to escape the professor's reign of terror! I don't know what you're planning, but you're obviously up to something. Furthermore, you just happened to show up in the very bar we visited after we gave the constable false information about trouble at the Rat Trap."

"You've got a good eye for detail," he remarked. "Are you going to tell the others?"

"You've heard enough about me to get me in trouble too," I answered. "I'll keep quiet if you will, but you've got to be more careful. We both do."

"Agreed." He extended his hand, and we shook on it.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pay the bartender for the drinks he gave us. If I didn't, that would be stealing." I turned toward the bar. "When I get back out, I'll take you to Ratigan's lair."

He nodded. "I'll see you well rewarded for your advice and information."

I shrugged. "I don't know what you mean, but forget it. Really."


	4. The Questions Continue

**The Questions Continue**

Neither of us spoke as we walked to the lair. When we arrived, the only one there was Tirade.

"Where are the others?" I asked.

Tirade handed me a note stating that everyone else had gone on a heist without us.

I shrugged. "I guess they got tired of waiting for us, but that's perfectly fine with me."

Tirade pointed at Johnston.

"You're right. I should make introductions. Tirade, this is Johnston. He came here to advise the others how to steal from pockets, as if they needed lessons! Mr. Johnston, this is Tirade. He's the boss's favorite because he can't talk. Ratigan can say any secret plan in front of him, and of course Tirade will never tell. If Tirade ever got arrested, there's no chance he could tell the police anything about the professor."

Johnston extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my good fellow. How do you do?"

Not used to polite greetings, Tirade frowned. After a long pause, he finally shook Johnston's hand.

"You must be very happy being Ratigan's favorite employ."

Tirade slapped Johnston as hard as he could, leaving a mark on the visitor's face. I gasped in horror.

"He's usually not like this," I explained.

"No matter," Johnston replied. "Perhaps he has reason to be. I imagine Ratigan calls him 'Tirade' as a nickname."

"He nicknames almost all his favorite henchmen," I explained.

Johnston turned to Tirade. "What's your real name?"

Tirade shrugged.

"You don't want to tell me?"

Tirade shook his head.

"Very well. Can I at least assume that you are unhappy with Ratigan's name for you?"

Tirade nodded.

"Did you come here by choice?" Johnston asked.

Tirade shook his head.

"So Ratigan forced you to work for him?"

Tirade nodded again.

"And you are unhappy here?"

Tirade continued to nod.

"Do you like committing crimes?...No, I can see you don't. The look of horror on your face says everything. Does Ratigan try to force you to do misdeeds?"

Tirade looked at me.

"He doesn't break the laws himself," I explained. "The professor just makes him stand guard or serve refreshments."

"Would you escape if you could?" Johnston asked.

Tirade nodded enthusiastically.

Johnston turned to me. "You said you knew which of your boss's ruffians were guilty of what crimes and that you had proof."

"I do," I replied.

"Is Tirade being honest with me?"

"He's probably the only one more unhappy here than I am."

"I'm going to get you both out of this mess," Johnston promised.

Tirade looked at him suspiciously.

"I may be a thief, but even I have a heart," our visitor explained.

I sighed. "Basil himself could not get us out of here! Do yourself a favor and don't try anything rash. We appreciate your offer, but you'll only end up infuriating the boss. Just teach the others how to steal from pockets as deviously as you do and be gone before the professor knows you were ever here."

Johnston insisted, "I said I would help you, and I will. You have my word as a gentleman."

Tirade looked at me, acted like he was ringing a bell, removed his hat, and pointed at Johnston.

"You're right about that!" I whispered.

Tirade pretended to wipe away tears.

"Yes, it is a real pity," I agreed quietly. "I don't want him to die either. He seems like a decent enough chap."

Tirade blinked fast as if actually about to cry, but before I could ask him if he was alright, the others returned. They were laughing and chattering loudly.

"Did you have a successful heist?" I asked.

Bill sighed. "We didn't even come close. It takes Ratigan to come up with a plan that will actually work!"

Fidget laughed. "We still had fun. We lurked in dark alleys."

"But nobody showed up!" Bill complained. "Anyway, we decided to have a contest so we could at least have a little fun."

"Let me guess," I responded. "You decided to see who could drink the most beer, and Bartholomew won."

"We threw darts at pictures of the boss!" Bartholomew stated.

"Did you have fun here with the stranger, Tirade?" Fidget asked. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

The others laughed.

"You won't tell the boss what we did, will you?" Fidget continued.

Tirade crossed his arms in front of him, refusing to give them the benefit of seeing his reaction.

"For once, why don't you at least pretend like you have hearts?" I asked. "Everyone has their own problems. Tirade may be mute, but Fidget has a crippled wing and a peg leg! Bartholomew has a drinking problem! Bill's so clumsy that he breaks almost everything he touches! The professor needs spectacles in order to read! There's nothing wrong with being different, but since nobody is completely perfect, we have no right to taunt others!"

Bill rolled his eyes. "Your problem is that you have too much audacity! You're going to say the wrong thing at the wrong time one of these days, and Ratigan will make you pay with your life!"

Johnston saw the professor's bell on a shelf, picked it up, and started to ring it.

"No!" everyone screamed in unison.

"What's wrong?" Johnston asked.

Beating his club against his hand, Robert sighed. "I guess Virtue forgot some of the rules when he was explaining things to you. First of all, never ring that bell. The boss rings it when he wants somebody to disappear forever. Whenever his pet demon hears that bell, she eats somebody."

"His pet demon?"

"Felicia is Ratigan's cat," Lewis explained, holding his dagger.

Johnston put the bell back in its place. "I thought Ratigan would take a bell like that with him."

"He did. What you tried to ring was his spare," Robert clarified. "He wants to have a replacement ready in case anything happens to his original." After a brief pause, he added. "You know anything about the professor's expectations and temperament?"


	5. A Secret Meeting

**A Secret Meeting**

"Tell me your names first," Johnston requested.

Everyone stared at him.

"The lizard is Bill," I began. "Fidget is the bat, the mouse with the club is Robert, the two with daggers are Lewis and Henry, the drunk guy is Bartholomew…"

"Who is Virtue?" Johnston asked. "I heard Robert say that Virtue was supposed to explain the rules."

"It's what they call me because I disapprove of their criminal lifestyle and refuse to break laws unless Ratigan forces me," I explained. "They mean it as an insult, but I take it as a high compliment."

"What's your real name?"

"Frederick," I answered.

"Is this an interrogation?" Henry demanded sarcastically.

"Let's just tell him about Ratigan and be done with it!" Bill suggested.

"Agreed!" exclaimed Robert. "Virtue, you can imitate the boss's voice better than any of the rest of us. You do his role!"

I nodded.

"Now this is what happens when someone calls the professor a rat," Lewis began. "Watch closely, Mr. Johnston. Your life may depend on it."

"You have my full attention," remarked Johnston.

Fidget laughed. "Isn't our boss the most clever of all rats?"

I pretended to be enraged. The others put their hands over their mouths as if in terror. (They later told me they were actually trying to contain their laughter because my Ratigan impression was so good.) While everyone else feigned horror, I acted like I was feeding Fidget to Felicia.

"What did you learn?" Lewis asked.

"Your boss gets upset when someone calls him a rat, and anyone who upsets him dies," Johnston concluded.

"Exactly!" replied Henry. "Now we'll show you what happens when the professor wants a cigarette."

Using me as a stand in for Ratigan, the others taught Johnston proper behavior. He quickly learned how to light cigarettes, pour drinks, play cards in a way that ensured the boss's victory every hand, perform minor acrobatic stunts to keep the criminal mastermind entertained, and make sycophancy sound sincere.

"When you sing, you may call him 'Ratigan,'" Bill instructed, "but when you address him, you must call him 'Professor.' 'Boss' and 'sir' are also acceptable titles. Now we will teach you his favorite song."

After Johnston had learned the song, Robert advised, "You must never argue with Ratigan; however, you may disagree with him if you are crafty enough. For example, you cannot say, 'That plan is too complicated! Can't you be more realistic?' but you can tell him, 'Only a genius could think of something so clever! Would you please explain it to us again so those of us so inferior to your intelligence can be absolutely sure we perform our roles correctly with no mistakes?' You also can't tell him he has a bad idea or that it will never work. You must say, 'How brilliant, Professor! It's much better than the pathetic scheme my defective mind would have planned!' and then you tell him your idea, which is actually his idea presented in a different way that would actually be successful."

"I understand," answered Johnston.

"No you don't!" I argued. "You're clever, Johnston. I can tell. The boss can't stand anyone who is cunning! Someone who is smart might figure out a way to take information to the police or challenge Ratigan's authority. Intelligence is a threat to him. You have to act like you don't have any sense. It's the only way Ratigan will ever accept you."

The others nodded their approval.

Catching Johnston's eye, I mouthed the words, "Don't do it!" I thought I saw him give a terse nod, but I wasn't sure.

Tirade slipped a note into my hand. The paper read: "We need to talk. Meet me tonight at our favorite restaurant. Wear your finest outfit so no one will recognize you as one of Ratigan's men. I'll see you at the front door at 7:00."

I nodded.

After only a few hours at the lair, Johnston stated, "I enjoyed meeting all of you and learning about your boss. Thank you for teaching me how to behave in his presence. I shall return after breakfast tomorrow."

The others agreed and bade him farewell. At the appointed time, I went to the front door of the restaurant that all the professor's employees favored. To avoid company, I told everyone I was going to the Rat Trap. When I arrived at the restaurant door, I saw a lovely young lady.

She smiled. "Hello, Frederick."

"How do you know my name?" I asked.

"I am Bartholomew's sister," she explained. "You won't tell Ratigan, will you? He thinks I'm dead!"

"You've never harmed me in any manner," I replied. "I won't bring any harm to you."

Her smile broadened. "I knew I could trust you! I always thought you'd make a good friend. You're the only one who was ever kind to me."

"Delighted to make your acquaintance, and I'm sure I would be glad to be your friend, but what makes you so…?"

"Come inside, and we'll talk," she gently interrupted.

We found a table, and she began her story.

"Bartholomew was the youngest child and the only boy in our family. I'm actually his twin, but I still consider myself older because I was born first." She laughed softly. "My sisters and I used to make him style our hair." Then her tone became melancholy. "We were wealthy, and one night, Ratigan broke into our home. He planned to kill us so he could seize our entire fortune. The rat spared my brother to be his henchman, but he killed my parents and sisters."

There was a pause in her explanation as she dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

Her voice quavered. "I'm so ashamed of my cowardice! I should have died with them, but instead I hid!"

"You were right to hide," I told her. "They would have wanted you to survive. Your escape from their murderer is an honor to their memory."

She tried to smile. "Perhaps you are right, but I haven't escaped. Since Bartholomew is my twin, we wear similar sizes in clothing. While I was hiding, I changed into one of his shirts and a pair of his trousers so Ratigan would think I was a young man. Women who are captured by that brute are either drowned or forced to perform in bars, but men are usually spared if that vile criminal thinks they can be useful."

"You dressed as a man so he would let you live if he found you?"

She nodded. "It worked. When Ratigan found me, he thought I was Bartholomew's brother, so he offered to let me keep my life if I would agree to become a henchman. I nodded in response because if I had spoken, that monster would have realized my voice was too high to be a man's. Bartholomew made up a story about how I was mute, and we've both been serving the sewer rat ever since."

"You've been working for Ratigan all this time?" I asked.

"Yes. Of course I've been disguised as a man, and I've had to keep silent, and…"

I gasped. "Tirade?!"

"That's what Ratigan calls me. My real name is Florence."


	6. Who Is He?

**Who Is He?**

"I can't believe it! All the jokes the others made about you because you were mute, but you're not!"

She laughed. "I didn't mind those jokes. It meant my ruse was working! However, you're absolutely right. No one should ever mock others like that. Like you said, nobody's perfect." She frowned slightly. "You were the only one who ever stood up for me. Why'd you do it?"

"I'm not a criminal," I answered. "I was forced into it because I was accidentally a witness to the Tower Bridge Job."

"We're in this together now. If Ratigan ever found out about this meeting…"

"He won't find out," I assured her. "He's in Cambridge."

She cleared her throat. "That's what I wanted to tell you. I fear this Mr. Johnston fellow is more than he appears to be. He's either Ratigan's spy or…" She shook her head.

"Or what?"

"He's most likely a spy. The boss could have sent him to make sure we still follow the rules."

"In that case, we're both going to die," I remarked. "We both told Johnston our true opinions of that sewer rat!" I buried my head in my hands. "What have I done?! It's all my fault! I'm the one who invited the stranger to the professor's lair! I'm the one who gave him a speech about the true horrors of working for Ratigan! Losing my own life will be bad enough, but placing yours in danger!" I sighed. "I really am a criminal! I have murdered the innocent!"

She placed her hand on my shoulder. "It's not too late. Perhaps he can be bribed into keeping silent, and there's still time to think of a good excuse to give the professor. Besides, there's still a small chance that Johnston may work for the other side of the law."

"Surely you don't mean…!"

"I'm not sure yet, but just think about it. He happened to show up on the day Ratigan left town. He promised to liberate us from the professor's control. He keeps asking you questions about everyone else. He already seems to know a great deal about the boss."

"You think he might be a police officer?" I asked.

"Not exactly." She lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. "I think he might be a private investigator. Someone probably hired him to take a case after some of the professor's ruffians caused trouble. He then found out Ratigan would be out of town for at least several days, and now he wants to know what we're up to."

"I hope he's not! Do you have any idea what will happen if the boss finds out I invited a private investigator to visit his lair?!"

She shuddered. "Either way, Frederick, we've got to be careful."

"We certainly do, Florence," I agreed. "How do I ever thank you for sharing all this information with me?"

"You're kind to me. That alone is enough thanks." She pondered the situation. "Tomorrow you must get Johnston to talk about Basil. If he reacts with admiration, he also is a detective. If he reacts with hatred, he is Ratigan's spy. If he reacts with indifference, he is a regular citizen. If he reacts with fear, he is a true criminal. Above all, if he acts like he doesn't know anything, you can be sure he's lying. Everyone in the city knows about the boss's feud with his adversary."

"Shall we meet again for dinner tomorrow night?" I suggested.

"So we can discuss Johnston some more?"

I shook my head. "We might have a brief conversation about him, but I was thinking more along the lines of a nice evening out without being surrounded by criminals. Isn't it wonderful to have the chance to be ourselves?"

Florence smiled. "It is."

After our meal, I walked back to the lair.

"Where's Tirade?" Lewis demanded.

"Still at the Rat Trap," I answered. "He's the only one I know who can drink more than Bartholomew!"

The others laughed.

"Did you see any girls?" Fidget asked.

"Only one," I replied.

Bill elbowed me in the ribs. "Was she pretty?"

"I can honestly say she was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen before in my life."

Everyone laughed and slapped me on the shoulder.

"You ought to tell her that!" Robert teased.

At that moment, Florence entered the lair. It goes without saying that she was dressed in men's clothing again.

"What did you drink at the pub tonight, Tirade?" Henry taunted.

Florence didn't answer.

The next day, Johnston arrived after breakfast, just as he had promised. "Good morning! I've returned for my next lesson!"

"We've told you about Ratigan," I answered. "Now it's time for you to learn about Basil."

Johnston lit a cigarette. "Who's Basil? Is he a friend of Ratigan's?"

Everyone stared at him.

"Mister, if that's your idea of a joke, you've obviously learned nothing yesterday!" Bill stated.

"They're enemies then?" Johnston asked.

"How long you been a criminal?" Fidget inquired.

"Only a couple years," replied our visitor.

"Basil is the greatest detective in all Mousedom," I explained.

"Surely an exaggeration," argued Johnston.

We had to tell him how Basil was Ratigan's nemesis.

"That's why Ratigan's in Cambridge," I stated. "When Basil hears that Ratigan left, he'll be suspicious and go to Cambridge to investigate."

"With Basil out of the way, that nefarious fiend will be free to commit any depravity he wishes after he sneaks back to London!" Johnston concluded. "No doubt the Napoleon of crime planned to send a few of you to Cambridge to fool Basil into believing your boss is still there!"

"'Nefarious'?" Bill asked. "'Depravity'? 'Napoleon of crime'?"

"That does sound familiar," Fidget added.

"I read it in the newspaper," answered Johnston.

"You figured out the boss's plan after only a few sentences," Fidget pointed out.

"Extraordinary!" exclaimed Bill.

"Actually, it's elem…very simple," Johnston responded.

"Did you just start to say 'elementary'?" Bartholomew asked.

"Nothing to it!" I responded. "Johnston's just imitating Basil's diction to show how much he's learned about him! Am I right?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I was doing!" Johnston replied.

Everyone else sighed with relief.


	7. I Get Eaten Alive

**I Get Eaten Alive**

After a while, I motioned for Johnston to follow me outside. He asked if there was a problem.

"Not at all!" I replied. "I just thought you might like to take a walk with me."

"Alright."

After we had walked for a while and I was sure no one else could hear us, I told Johnston the real reason I had asked him to walk with me. "I think it's time you left now. The others are beginning to get suspicious of you. Some of them say you are a spy for Ratigan. Others say you're working with the police to apprehend one of us. I don't know what you want, and I don't care anymore, but I do know you're not who you pretend to be. Why don't you do yourself a favor and leave before things turn ugly?"

He nodded. "Thank you, Frederick. You've been most helpful. I promise you'll be rewarded for your trouble."

"Forget it!" I answered. "It must be like you were never here. We never met. You were never at Ratigan's lair. You never talked to any of his henchmen. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

With that, I returned to the lair, making up a story about how Johnston went to the pub. Only fifteen minutes later, Ratigan stormed into the lair.

"You're back early!" Bill remarked. "You only left yesterday. We thought you'd be gone for at least a week, Professor."

"I had a nightmare!" the boss retorted. "I dreamed my lair was visited by a most unwelcome guest in my absence!"

"You mean you didn't send him?" Fidget asked.

Ratigan gasped. "What?! There actually was someone here?!"

"It's not our fault! Virtue invited him!" Fidget responded.

The professor grabbed me by the back of the shirt and lifted me off the ground. "What did he look like?"

The others described Johnston's physical appearance while Ratigan scowled at me.

"And how did he act?"

The others explained some of Johnston's behaviors and actions.

"Did he speak in a sort of sophisticated tone, as if he thought he were more dignified than everyone else? Don't bother telling me! Virtue will answer." He turned to me. "Did he speak the way I described, Virtue?"

"Yes, Professor," I answered.

He shook me until my teeth rattled. "YOU IDIOT!"

"Have I done something to upset you?" I asked.

"THAT WAS BASIL, YOU IMBECILE!"

Fidget gasped. "Basil?! He's been with us the entire time?!"

"That was him?!" Bill's eyes were wide in disbelief. "I can't believe it! This entire time…!"

"Did you tell him anything?!" Ratigan demanded.

"I didn't, Professor, but Virtue did," Bill responded.

To shift the blame and save their own lives, everyone was more than willing to agree with Bill.

Ratigan threw me outside. "Oh my dear Virtue, you have lived up to your name too well." He slipped the bell out of his pocket. "Is there anyone you would like to take with you? Did anyone else give Basil any information? They deserve to die too. You don't have to slip off to your doom alone, you know."

"I wouldn't give you the name of my worst enemy!" I stated.

Florence ran outside and stood beside me.

"Tirade, what is the meaning of this?!" Ratigan demanded.

"I too am guilty!" she replied.

Everyone gasped.

"Tirade! You can speak!" The boss frowned. "Your voice is…"

"Higher than you imagined," Florence finished. "I dressed in men's clothing to fool you into sparing my life since you have no use for women."

"Why are you wasting your life now?"

"I would rather die with my friend than live with my enemy!"

Ratigan sighed. "Very well. If you're going to act sentimental, you are free to share his fate."

He rang the bell. Before we could run off or hide, Felicia appeared, ready to do her job. Florence refused to cower, but I noticed her hands were trembling.

I tried to push aside my own fears to comfort her. "At least it will be quick. We won't suffer long."

She took my hand. "You don't deserve to die."

"Neither do you," I answered.

"I know our friendship was short, but you were the best friend I ever had. In fact, you were the only friend I ever had."

I hugged her, but our embrace was interrupted when Felicia picked me up and started to lift me to her mouth.

"Felicia, wait!" Ratigan commanded. "Put him down."

Felicia reluctantly obeyed.

"Eat his friend first," Ratigan instructed. "Chew her up very slowly so he has plenty of time to hear her screams of agony. Then eat his toes and fingers individually. When you are through, you may eat his feet and hands, one at a time. After that, eat his left arm up to the elbow and repeat the procedure with his right arm. You will then eat his left leg up to the knee, followed by his right. In the same manner, eat both his arms up to the shoulder. When you have finished all that, release him."

He turned to me. "You will live, but it will be in torment! Death is too merciful for you! You'll spend the rest of your life without arms or legs. If you learn to adapt to that lifestyle and find happiness again someday, I'll see to it that Felicia eats your eyes, ears, and nose, but she'll still leave you alive."

"Boss?" whispered Fidget.

"Yes?"

"Did you invite the police?"

Ratigan gave him a baleful lower. "I most certainly did not invite the police to witness this event! Why do you ask?"

"The constable's coming down the street."

The professor looked like he was about to explode, but he told Felicia to release us both.

"Good afternoon!" Ratigan greeted in his most friendly tone.

"Do you know these two?" the constable asked, motioning to us.

"Of course not!" the boss exclaimed.

"So you have no objections if I arrest them?"

"None whatsoever!"

The constable turned to us. "You two are the ones who were attempting to rob that bank last night. Don't try to deny it. You're under arrest."

Neither Florence nor I protested when he handcuffed us and took us away.


	8. High Treason

**High Treason**

After we had walked for several blocks, the constable freed us from the handcuffs. "Excellent work playing along. Sorry about the fake arrest. It was the only way we could think of to get you away from Ratigan."

We assured him that it was no problem. We were just happy to be free.

"Basil told me about you two," he stated. "He says you gave him a lot of useful information about Ratigan and the other scoundrels. He seems to think you two would be good informants. You would pretend to be thugs, gain information about other criminal rings, and tell the police what you learned. In return, you would be well paid."

"It sounds wonderful, but what happens when every crook recognizes us because we've become too well known?" Florence asked. "We wouldn't be useful anymore."

"We'll work something out."

Everything indeed worked out well. Florence and I helped bring many criminals to justice by giving the police information. This also saved Basil a great deal of time to work on other cases. By the time we became too well known to be of service, Florence had learned great skill in dressmaking and opened her own shop. I too had no trouble finding a new job, for Queen Moustoria was so impressed with my work that she made me one of her royal guards.

Florence and I remained friends, becoming closer by the day. At one point, she made a wedding gown for herself. Shortly afterwards, another bell rang for us, but this time it was to announce our marriage. We spent years of happiness together.

This would have been the perfect example of a happy ending, but Ratigan wasn't finished yet. Our plan had always been to find a way to free Bartholomew from Ratigan's power someday, but we had yet to think of an idea. Since Bartholomew was almost always drunk, it was impossible to trust him with secrets or get him to concentrate. Still, as Bartholomew's sister, Florence refused to give up hope. When we learned of his demise, she wept inconsolably.

The next night as I stood guard, some of my former boss's thugs arrived at Buckingham Palace. They were dressed in the same type of royal uniform I wore. After they tied me up, I watched helplessly as Ratigan rang the bell and Fidget carried the queen to the balcony where Felicia was waiting. Dressed as a king, Ratigan took over the empire with a robot that resembled the queen.

The guard tied up next to me whispered, "This is incredibly humiliating! We've had training to protect Her Majesty! These traitors haven't had any sort of formal…"

"Don't bet on it," I interrupted. "They practice tying up each other. They fight all the time. If I know anything about that treacherous sewer rat, he's had them studying the finest combat techniques for months."

"You know a lot about his henchmen!"

"I used to be one."

"My condolences."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that after the queen died, we'd probably be next. When I felt myself being untied, I supposed it was a felon preparing me to meet Felicia, but to my relief, it was Queen Moustoria herself.

I knelt before her. "My most profound apologies, Your Majesty. I have failed to guard Your Highness."

"All is forgiven," she graciously replied. "It was not your fault."

While she hurried to reclaim her throne, I released the other guards. As soon as we heard the command given, we began to apprehend Ratigan's henchmen. To our great frustration, Ratigan himself got away, taking a young girl as a hostage. Basil hurried after them.

"As soon as that brave detective returns, you are to bring him to me at once," the queen ordered.

I bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The wait was terrible. The other guards and I took bets on whether or not there was any possibility that Basil was still alive. After several minutes, even the most optimistic among us began to fear the worst. However, just when we were prepared to tell Her Highness that the one who saved her life had no doubt lost his own, he showed up.

I approached him. "Stop in the name of Her Majesty, the queen!"

"What harm have I done?" he asked. "I have merely come to return the flag and find my dog."

"Her Highness commands you to appear before her at once."

"I am highly honored, but I cannot appear before her injured!" he protested.

"Nevertheless, she has ordered, and you must obey."

Basil's overweight companion frowned. "Injured? I thought you said you were unscathed!"

Basil frowned. "I fail to see how this is any of your concern, Dawson."

"Will you come?" I asked.

Basil crossed his arms in front of him. "It seems I have no choice. I will come."


	9. The Best News Ever

**The Best News Ever**

Queen Moustoria held a brief ceremony to honor Basil in the presence of all her loyal subjects and visiting dignitaries. Ratigan had often claimed to be "the head that made headlines in every newspaper," but that title now belonged to Basil. No paper missed the opportunity to tell of the queen's rescue. Basil's picture was on every front page with the story of how he had outwitted Ratigan.

The ruffians who had once criticized me for being kind to Basil are now in prison, and I am the guard who escorted them there. After nearly being drowned by Ratigan, Fidget gave up his life of crime and became an instructor; he now teaches young bats how to fly, even though he still has his broken wing. Ratigan was eaten by Felicia, who gave up her cruelty after nearly being killed by the royal guard dogs.

I would love to say everyone getting what they deserved or reforming their ways finally makes a happy ending, but I know my adventure is still just beginning. Florence informed me yesterday that we are going to be parents.


End file.
